


A glance of what could be

by orphan_account



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-20
Updated: 2010-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-13 20:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A glance of what could be

**Author's Note:**

  * For [extemporally (hidebehindtrees)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidebehindtrees/gifts).



> I had some problems getting this fic beta'd so the only person who has so far seen this and checked for errors is me. I hope whatever grammatic errors and missing words that are still there aren't distracting. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and that I managed to bring some joy to you for Yuletide (even if it's just a good laugh at how possibly badfic-y this is). :D

It doesn’t hit Johnny that magic is real until the first time he gets on a broom and really flies. It probably should have hit him earlier. Maybe around the time he held his wand for the first time and felt something warm flow from his core and down his arm, or when he stepped right through a metal barrier to find himself in front of a scarlet train, but somehow it doesn’t seem real until he is floating meters above the ground supported only by a scraggly piece of wood.

The feeling of wind blowing across his face and pulling his hair back reminds him of the horses he rode back in the real— muggle world. Except this is more exciting because he isn’t just imagining that he was flying through the sky, _he is actually doing it._

Johnny had heard a lot of talk about Quidditch since he the moment he stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express. He gathered from the talk that it had something to do flying and that it was a sport of some sort, but until now he was too absorbed in figuring out the rest of his new life to look it up or even ask.

What he learned when he did look it up was that Quidditch is something that will let him fly. Sure, he would have to play as part of a team and he had never enjoyed that, but he is willing to make sacrifices for the chance to fly all the time.

He also finally understood why so many of his classmates were excited about their professor. Irina Slutskaya was a Russian seeker whose team had won the Quidditch World Cup twice before she’d retired and ended up teaching at Hogwarts. He’d spent several hours staring at the moving photos of her in the copy of _Quidditch Through The Ages_ he had taken from the library and knew that he wanted to fly like her. It was also really amazing how she’d had the guts to make a successful comeback following some serious illness. In conclusion: there was pretty much nothing to not admire about her.

Still, Johnny isn't quite sure what he is doing at the door of her office. He knows he has no chance of making the Gryffindor Quidditch team so late in the year even if they had a spot open for him and let first years play, and yet he is still standing in front of her door trying to summon the courage to knock.

Johnny raises a fist to knock, but before his knuckles even hit the door, he feels a weight on his shoulder. He spins around in surprise.

Irina Slutskaya smiles at him in amusement.

* * *

Johnny sees a streak of black move quickly in his peripheral vision. He knows he should just leave it alone—he had been told numerous times about how curiosity killed the cat and really he should just leave others to their business, but it is so rare to see anyone in this part of the castle. So instead of minding his business and continuing to mope about the state of his life, he turns the corner and follows in the direction he had seen them go.

A few minutes later, Johnny hears a soft giggle coming from down the hall.

One of the doors is slightly ajar and he could see a small figure crouched in a corner. Johnny hesitates for a moment, unsure if he wants to intrude on whatever is going on, before knocking.

The person in a room jumped up, startled, and spun around to face him. Before Johnny even has the chance to glance at the girl standing in front of him, something black and fluffy launchs itself at him knocking him off his feet.

“I—I’m so sorry.” Johnny isn’t buying her apologies because she is laughing so hard she has to gasp for breath between every word. And anyway that black _thing_ has his necklace between its rodent-like teeth and started to make its way back into the girl’s arms.

It take Johnny a few seconds to compose himself and figure out what is going on. He recognizes the girl, Mirai Nagasu, a first year from his own house. He doesn’t know her very well since it has only been a month since school started and Johnny hasn’t gotten to know the new students. He also recognizes the _thing_. He learned about them in his Care of Magical Creatures last year. Black, fluffy and with a long snout—definitely a niffler.

Mirai holds the niffler to her chest and looks down at Johnny, her face rapidly cycling between amusement, apology, and worry.

“Where did you get that?” Johnny glares a little at the creature. It is cute, but it still has his chain full of pendants in its tiny jaw.

Mirai looks defensive and hugs the niffler closer to her chest. “ _That_ is Kousuke, he’s a niffler.”

And as much as he should be, Johnny can’t really bring himself to be angry when she looks like at him with a defiant pout. And anyway, the niffler really couldn’t help itself when it came to jewlery (at least it had excellent taste?). He was just wondering—

“Why did you bring—Kousuke into the castle? You know how nifflers can be, right?” he tries not to sound like he’s accusing her of anything. He’s just curious.

Mirai looks a bit chastened, but she is still gripping the black ball of fluff to her chest distrustfully. “I know,” she started. “But he was hurt when I found him and I couldn’t just _leave him_.”

Johnny can’t say anything to that. What kind of person would leave a hurt animal outside alone? So instead, he walks up to Mirai and pets the small, black animal.

Johnny promises to keep Kousuke a secret and offers his help.

And that’s how Johnny and Mirai end up settling into a new routine. Mirai checks on Kousuke in the morning before breakfast because Johnny isn’t known for being pleasant first thing is the morning. And in turn, Johnny checks up on him during lunch. They both come down after classes most days unless Johnny has Quidditch practice or Mirai is running behind on her schoolwork.

It’s late October when everything eventually falls apart. Johnny should have seen it coming, but if anything he had expected discovery to come from their own housemates or a professor rather than _him_.

Evan Lysacek is one of the pureblood assholes from Slytherin. Some thought that Evan isn’t nearly as bad as Johnny made him out to be. Those people are idiots.

It’s not that Evan doesn’t present a nice picture of a studious pupil and a polite young man, Johnny just knows better than to trust that snake. And anyway, nobody should expect Johnny to feel kindly disposed toward him after being snidely referred to as a mudblood when everyone was out of hearing range or being treated like shit just because he didn’t meet some arbitrary standards of wizarding behaviour Evan had been taught by his parents.

Mirai disagreed with Johnny’s assessment. Johnny didn’t hold that against her because there wasn’t any accounting for the bizarre forms of Stockholm Syndrome that can develop when your families spent most weekends together since before you could remember.

And despite Mirai’s feelings on Evan, he is still surprised to walk in on this scene.

“You can’t be serious?” Evan’s voice was somewhere between outraged and nervous, it was the least controlled Johnny has ever heard him. “Mirai, you know it’s against the rules.”

Mirai’s back is turned to the door so Johnny can’t see her face, but knowing her she has her best pleading, puppy dog eyes as she starts, “But he was hurt and look, he’s harmless.”

“Mirai—” There was a definite frustrated edge to Evan’s voice.

“Oh, shut up, Lysacek,” Johnny interrupted, “It’s not like she was keeping a litter of dragons in here.”

Johnny isn’t sure how Evan is going to react, but he isn’t about to let him berate Mirai over something this harmless.

“I should have guessed you were behind this.” And then without anything saying else, Evan stalks out of the room.

The next two weeks are no different than the previous ones. Johnny and Mirai continue to take care of Kousuke and Johnny thinks that maybe Evan is actually human and has enough of a soft spot for Mirai that he’ll just let this go.

What Johnny soon learns is: yes, Evan does seem to care about Mirai; but, no, he wasn’t about to let this go. Johnny doesn’t know why it takes Evan two weeks before he does anything about this. Maybe it was the fact that Johnny has gotten a better grade on his Potions essay two days earlier. Or maybe it just takes him two weeks of stalking him to figure out how Johnny and Mirai split their time with Kousuke. Whatever Evan’s reason for waiting two whole weeks, Johnny was alone in the room with a niffler when Professor Hamilton and Evan walk in.

The fallout of the whole niffler drama isn’t nearly as spectacular as Johnny feared or Evan had hoped. Gryffindor loses 100 house points, Johnny gets detention for the next month, and Mirai is so upset by Evan’s betrayal that she doesn’t talk to him until Christmas. Still, he kind of misses the black ball of fluffy and it’s jewelry snatching ways.

* * *

Everything considered, Johnny’s fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry could have been much worse. That, however, doesn't mean that it was anything short of a disaster.

He had been kind of a mess the entire year and, in retrospect, he feels dumb for letting things get to him. So what if his first school-girl romance hadn't turned out as perfect as he'd have hoped? So what if his boyfriend had dumped him right before the most important academic year of his life? So what if he'd let that get to his head so much that he'd fucked up his OWLs? Johnny took this as a learning experience and what he'd learned was that he'd never let another boy get to him the way that Drew Meekins did.

He had sworn off romance forever, which was exactly why the presence of a certain Beauxbatons student at Hogwarts was going to drive him insane. Stéphane Lambiel had arrived with the rest of his classmates and teachers as part of the Triwizard Tournament and had set his sights on Johnny for some unknown reason.

***

The first two months of his sixth year had gone well. He hadn’t alienated any friends with his moodiness and he’d even managed to mend some fences. He had managed to get into most of the classes he needed despite a lacklustre performance on his OWLs and was back to getting top marks. Overall, He felt more in control of his life and everything was going great.

Well, great aside from the Quidditch season at Hogwarts being cancelled for the year due to the Triwizard Tournament. The Gryffindor team still had practice once a week and Johnny also put in an extra couple of hours each week on his own. Tonight, he had some free time between finishing his Transfigurations essay and dinner so he decided to put on an extra jumper, grab his broom, and fly around the Quidditch pitch before it got too dark.

He shivers a little at the cold November air. The wind is biting as he goes higher or faster. Johnny can feel his fingers going a little numb from the cold, but his mouth is stretched in a smile. He feels free. Climbing up as far as he can before plummeting to the ground only to catch himself at the last second. The world feels like it doesn't exist outside his broom and the sky around him.

"Hello?" An accented voice speaks out braking him out of his bubble.

Johnny hadn't expected this and has to catch himself before coming to halt. He turns around and looked in the direction of the voice. He sees light blue robes and, with that French accent, he knows the boy must be a student from Beauxbatons.

"Hi," Johnny replies cautiously. He is not particularly pleased that someone interrupted him, but Patti had always taught him to be polite even when he wasn't in the mood for conversation.

“I’m Stéphane Lambiel,” the boy starts with a wide smile. “From—”

“Beauxbatons. I could tell.” Maybe that’s a little to snappy on Johnny’s part. “My name’s Johnny Weir.”

The boy—Stéphane—still smiling and seemingly oblivious to Johnny’s irritation flies toward him, one arm out stretched, expecting to shake hands. Johnny obliges him.

“Look, I don’t mean to be interrupting,” Stéphane starts. “I wanted to ask if it is ok with you if I was flying here.”

“Sure.” Johnny doesn’t know what else to say so he just smiles hesitantly before flying off.

When Johnny starts feeling tired he decides to take a break and watch Stéphane for a few minutes, see what the French have to offer when it came to flying.

Stéphane flies with a kind of abandon that Johnny has never seen before. Watching him it feels less like he’s just doing the perfunctory dives and loops that come with practice and more like he's putting on a show. There’s an exuberance in the way Stéphane flies up and turns sharply. It's mesmerizing and Johnny can't look away. He wonders how he looks when he flies. Do his feeling and passion come across just as freely as Stéphane’s?

Johnny's so entranced that he doesn't even realize that Stéphane is flying towards him until he's hovering a few feet away smiling widely. Stéphane’s cheeks are rosy from the wind and his hair is tousled.

Stéphane gets off his broom and settles beside Johnny. There are a few moments of silence where neither of them are sure what to say.

“Jellybeans?” Stéphane turns his head towards Johnny and shoves a handful of the sweets in front of his face.

“Thanks.” Johnny picks the most innocuous looking jelly bean hoping that it won’t be too awful.

"You really enjoy flying?" It's an awkward start to a conversation, but Johnny says it with enough confidence that it works.

Without noticing it, the sky is already darkening and Johnny isn't sure how long he's been talking to Stéphane. What he does know for sure, after the conversation, is: Stéphane is not French, despite the speaking the language and going to school in France, he's Swiss; Stéphane’s ambition to become a great Quidditch player; and he has a completely un-ironic obsession with ladybugs.

***

Johnny is fine with being friends and at first he had thought that was all Stéphane wanted too. Maybe he should have taken clue from how Stéphane hangs all over him, but he did that with everyone, right? Stéphane is physically affectionate with everyone—look at how he acted with those guys from Durmstrang who everyone knew weren’t the least bit interested in men—and Johnny likes hugs.

Johnny also likes going flying with Stéphane, which he now seemed to do more often than spending time in the Gryffindor common room. If they end up tumbling off their brooms in a heap while chasing a snitch, that’s fine and a part of the game. Even if he feels a strange warmth when Stéphane looks up at him and grins, it’s ok because they’re just horsing around.

What Johnny doesn't like is when, in early December, Stéphane had decides to ask him to the Yule Ball.

“Stéphane,” he starts awkwardly. “You’re a darling and a I do like you, but I’m really not interested in going to the Yule Ball.” Somehow saying that is harder than expected.

Stéphane just looks at him with a mixture of sadness and shock. It’s almost like he has never been rejected or refused before and doesn’t know how to deal.

And maybe Stéphane hasn’t because he spends the next three days alternating between sulking and acting overly polite. It’s like he can’t decide if he should blame Johnny or himself for things not going his way. And while Johnny knows he has no reason to feel guilty, Stéphane’s wounded act is making him feel like he kicked a puppy.

***

It take Johnny a whole week to admit to himself that maybe he made a mistake. He comes to this realization on the third evening where he spends the majority of dinner staring in the direction of the Beauxbatons table. He misses Stéphane. They still talk, but everything seems just a bit more awkward. Johnny wants more than anything to go back to how it was before.

Maybe, Johnny thinks, it wouldn’t have even been a terrible idea to agree. It isn’t like going together to one ball was the same as dating and maybe they could have just gone as friends. Maybe, he thinks with an inexplicable sadness, this is what Stéphane had originally wanted and he had just misread everything.

The thing is, Johnny has no idea how to fix this.

***

On Monday evening, Johnny sneaks out for a quick flight around the Quidditch pitch. It’s too dark and more than a little too cold for flying, but that’s more the reason to go. There shouldn’t be anyone out there and that’s exactly what Johnny needs right now.

Walking towards the pitch, Johnny seess a small figure on a broom flying in the distance. He’s not going to be alone. What’s even worse is that he knows who he’ll have to share the sky with because he doesn’t need to see the person’s face to know who it is—Stéphane’s flying was impossible to miss.

Johnny isn’t sure what he wants to do. He could still go back and continue ignoring the situation while over-thinking any plans for reconciliation, or he could just go and get this over with. And when you consider it like that, the answer seems pretty obvious. He gets on his broom and flies toward the pitch.

“Stéphane?”

* * *

 

At seventeen Johnny is less shy and more outgoing than he was as an eleven-year-old, which is why he doesn’t hesitate when he stops by Irina’s office the second he hears that she’s back. Over the years, she’s been his favorite teacher and with the amount of time he spent on Quidditch, she’s become and mentor to him.

He knocks twice before hears a slightly accented voice tell him to just come in already. He smiles. Irina is sitting at her desk and making faces at a tiny infant. “Is that—” Johnny starts asking.

“Artem, meet Johnny.” Irina’s voice does that high pitched thing that all parents do when talking to their children. She looked tired, but whenever Irina gazed at her son she looked like she couldn’t be any happier.

“Can I hold him?” Johnny asks. Maybe he’s being to forward or rude, but he hopes Irina trusts him. He knows it’s not unusual for men his age to feel uncomfortable around babies, but he’d always wanted kids and he knows that Stéphane had already picked out names for the six or so kids that he had decided on.

Irina hands the baby over to Johnny, adjusting how he’s holding him and making sure he doesn’t slip from Johnny’s arms. Johnny is surprised at how calm she is. He thinks he’d probably have a heart attack if he had to hand his baby over to someone like him. When he tells her this she laughs, “You know, I worry all time: Am I going to drop him? Will he wriggle out of my grip when I give him a bath?” She pauses to make sure Artem is ok. “But I can’t be worrying too much and I know you’re a good man, Johnnik.”

“Thanks.” Johnny sounds a bit uncertain because as much as Johnny loves getting compliments, it is still always a bit strange to receive them from somebody you admire and look up to.

They spend the next twenty minutes talking and playing with Artem, who is really excitable for someone so tiny. Irina tells him about the day she brought Artem home and how she had for the first time realized how little she knew about taking care of a baby and how her husband has to bathe the baby because she’s too scared to drop him. Every once in a while, she points out a funny face that Artem makes and they both laugh.


End file.
